


come together; come apart

by mercurybard



Category: Fringe, Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Crossover, Feminist Themes, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurybard/pseuds/mercurybard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fringe Division needs some outside help, and Walter says something horribly inappropriate to their guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come together; come apart

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Neither are mine. For Grandmom, who has never found House's asshole behavior charming because she was a nurse when doctors were still gods.

Charlie Francis was ninety percent sure he was hallucinating—there was no way the woman who had just stepped off the jetway could look _that much_ like Olivia Dunham. “Dr. Bannon!” he called, waving her over.

The redhead readjusted the strap of her carryon before turning in his direction. It wasn’t so much that she looked like Liv—their facial features were nothing alike, and Bannon had a long mane of fiery red hair—but that they carried themselves with the same confidence. Charlie got the sense that the world could be spinning off its axis, and Livia and Bannon would both be epicenters of calm competency.

“I’m Agent Charlie Francis,” he introduced himself.

She shook the proffered hand, her grip firm despite her slender fingers. “Jessie Bannon. I have no idea why you need me, but Broyles said a woman’s life was at stake. I hope I can help.”

***

The trip up to Bishop’s lab was mostly silent. Bannon glanced out the window once or twice. “We’re not headed for the Federal Building in Boston,” she said as she opened her laptop and plugged a cellular Internet uplink card into one of the USB slots.

“No, Harvard. The man who wants your assistance has a lab in the basement of one of the buildings.”

“Does this man have a name?”

“Walter Bishop.”

“I thought he was incarcerated in a mental institution.”

“He’s been allowed out in the custody of his son, Peter, who you’ll be meeting shortly.”

“If you’ve let Bishop loose, than things must really be dire.”

***

“You,” Walter said, looking Bannon up and down, “Are not Quest.” In the background, Peter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache.

“No, Dr. Quest disappeared years ago, Dr. Bishop,” Bannon replied, unperturbed by Walter’s rudeness. “My name is Jessie Bannon—I was a student of Benton Quest’s for years.”

Charlie spoke up, “She’s also the leading researcher in the fields of cyperspace and consciousness.”

Walter stepped closer to the newcomer—a little too close if you believed in respecting others’ personal space—and frowned. “Benton was a homosexual. Why would he have bothered taking a woman on as a protégé?”

“Walter…” Peter said, sliding off his stool, warning and exasperation mixed in his voice. Charlie could understand the frustration—he had a great aunt who’d recently turned ninety and decided she was too old to be polite. Which sounded amusing, until the woman’s scathing tongue was directed at, say, Charlie’s latest girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend after Aunt Myra was done with her. “Sorry about that,” Peter apologized to Bannon. “He’s a little…” His words trailed off, but he spun his finger in a slow circle near his temple.

“It’s all right,” Jessie replied, looking Peter in the eye before turning back to Bishop. “I’m the daughter of Dr. Quest’s former bodyguard. I was raised with his sons.” No comment on how inappropriate Bishop’s remark had been. “Now, what do you need help with that requires knowledge of cyberspace…”

***

Charlie hung around the basement, fed the cow, made sympathy eyes at Astrid (she was going to have earned herself one hell of a promotion when the FBI finally shut down this crazy little operation), and generally watched four brilliant people run around being brilliant within a tightly confined space. Livia breezed in once, long enough to get a rambling disjointed report from Walter and then the clarifying translation from Peter. She only took a moment to greet Bannon and thank her for flying half way around the world. Bannon said it wasn’t a problem. Something unspoken passed between them. Charlie wasn’t sure what, but he thought something along the lines of ‘it’s okay, I got it’. Olivia rushed back out again to do the portion of saving the world that required guns and a suit.

***

When the world was saved—and don’t ask Charlie the specifics because he doesn’t know because nobody actually tells him anything—he took her out to dinner. Just the two of them because Liv was so exhausted that her eyes look bruised and Walter was never fit for taking outside unless it involved work and Peter needed to babysit his father, and Astrid just disappeared as soon as they’re done.

He took her to an out-of-the-way Greek place. “Hey, listen, sorry about Bishop,” he said after they’d placed their orders with a slightly greasy looking waiter.

Bannon shrugged. “Walter Bishop isn’t the first one to say something like that to me; he’s just the first who can plead insanity.”

“How do you stand it?”

“You get angry,” she said, shuffling through the stack of menus in their holder at the end of the table. “You get angry, you bite your tongue, and you remind yourself that the worst ones are all from your father’s generation and are bound to die of heart attacks any day now.”

Charlie just stared at her for a minute and wondered if this was how Livia felt as well.


End file.
